#i just wish my advil would kick in a little faster so i can go to bed

[snubbullls]

I wish it wasn't summer 😭

I would kill for my heat pad rn but I'd melt fr

[ukulelecal]

Coffee and Confessions

@outerspaceisbetterthannothing​ : so then a roommate au with Cal and they not really get on well, and promts are 4 - “A cup of coffee would be nice.”, 11 - “Need some help?” and 6 - “Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That’s still up for debate.” thank you in advance 🥰🥰🥰

4 - “A cup of coffee would be nice.” 6 - “Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That’s still up for debate.” 11 - “Need some help?”

a/n: here’s the first of the requests!!! i was planning on making these all like at max 1k words but this is like almost 1.2k so we’ll see haha. i hope you like it, pumpkin!!! love you xx

got a request?

✰✰✰

“You’re not a very quiet drunk, you know.”

You peaked up from the glass of water sat in front of you to see your smirking roommate coming into the kitchen, making his way to the fridge.

“How do you know I was drunk?” You grumble, trying to ignore the headache pounding at your skull and wishing the Advil you had taken would kick in faster.

“Well, first of all, you’re clearly hungover. And I could hear you stumbling around in here last night doing God knows what.”

The night before, you had gone out with some friends for a night of drinking. After the Uber had dropped you off at your apartment building at nearly three in the morning, you decided you were hungry, and attempted to make pizza rolls. You had done your best to be quiet, knowing Calum was probably asleep, but apparently, you weren’t successful.

“I was making food,” you returned, shooting him a glare. “You’ve woken me up in the middle of the night before making noise, anyway. Sorry I interrupted your beauty sleep.”

You and Calum weren’t exactly the closest of roommates. Most conversations consisted of making jabs at each other or arguing over something silly. You tended to avoid each other for the most part, doing your own thing. The most time you spent together was silently watching something on Netflix together in the evenings, sitting on opposite ends of the couch. It was never planned, but you both knew you were welcome to join whenever the other clicked the TV on.

As annoying as Calum could be, you couldn’t really bring yourself to hate him. He actually was a sweet guy. He was funny, attentive, always paid the bills on time and was good about keeping up his share of the groceries. He also liked to walk around the apartment in just underwear, which you always made a show of rolling your eyes at, but you didn’t exactly hate what you saw. In fact, you liked it a lot, if you were being honest. 

In short, you liked him quite a bit more than you let on. But you would never tell him that.

Calum ignored your comment and closed the fridge after pulling out a cup of yogurt. He then made his way over to the coffee maker for his usual caffeine fix. He turned back to look at you miserably sipping your water and grinned.

“Need some help?”

You looked at him this time in confusion rather than glaring at him.

“Help with what?”

“That hangover. I can make you a coffee.”

This wasn’t the first time that Calum had done something like this for you. If he had to go to work early, sometimes he would leave a full mug out for you to heat up in the microwave, or pick up some food for you if he was getting dinner on his way home. You never really thought much of it, figured he was trying to be courteous. You tried to do the same for him, too. But, he usually did it silently, without asking. 

“A cup of coffee would be nice.”

He nodded and turned his attention back to the Keurig, placing a pod of the brew he knew was your favorite into the machine. You picked up your phone to respond to texts from your equally hungover friends, paying him no mind.

He paid more attention to you than you realized. He knew all your little habits and routines, your favorite foods and coffees. He could tell what mood you were in so easily. It never clicked in your mind, but he liked you more than he let on, too.

Calum set your mug on the table in front of you with a word, and then headed back to the counter to make his own. You were about to get up to prepare it the way you like, but one glance into the mug told you it was already done. You furrowed your eyebrows; Calum had made you coffee before, but he usually left it plain to let you prepare it yourself. You didn’t think he knew how you liked it. You took a tentative sip, and realized he did it very well. Perfect, actually. 

“How do you know how I take my coffee?” You blurted out, looking up at him. He shrugged as he turned around, taking a sip of his own drink.

“I pay attention.”

“You do?”

“‘Course I do.”

You stared at him in exasperation. You never thought of anything of all the little things he did for you, never realized just how much he knew about you. You thought he was annoyed by you too much to care to pay such close attention. Seems that you were wrong.

“Why do you look so shocked?” Calum asked softly, his casual demeanor falling slightly.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I just didn’t think you liked me enough to pay attention to how I like my coffee.”

His gaze fell downward, his cup of coffee suddenly becoming very interesting. 

“You thought wrong, then.”

The confession was so quiet you almost didn’t hear it, but the weight of his words rang loud and clear in your mind. You stood up with a racing heart, leaving the coffee on the table and making your way over to him. He set his coffee down as well on the counter behind him. His brown eyes were sincere as they met yours. 

“What do you mean by that?” You asked, voice coming out as just a whisper. Could you have been wrong all this time? Could all the teasing and jabs from him have been just a way to hide his feelings, like you had been doing? 

Your knees went weak when one tattooed hand came up to cup your cheek.

“I guess I mean that I know I’ve been a bit of a dick to you since we’ve lived together. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t really mean all the shit I say. I think you’re really amazing, actually. I have for a long time. I’ve just been scared to say it.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you found the courage to place your hands on his shoulders. 

“I think you’re really amazing, too,” you mumbled, and Calum smiled as well.

“But you’re still annoying when you leave the kitchen cabinets open. And leave your towel on the bathroom floor.” You both chuckled at your admittedly bad habits. “Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That's still up for debate.”

You giggled at his comment, but the sounds were swallowed by Calum’s lips on yours for the first time ever. As you kissed him back, the taste of coffee on both of your tongues, you were filled with the desire for this to be the first of many kisses to come, and you had a feeling that you wouldn’t be disappointed.

[blondie1locks]

Eddie Spaghetti

This is a sick fic, and paring is  Reddie, enjoy!

The losers club got together very often, they would go to the quarry, ride into town on their bikes, and well go anywhere Henry Bowers wasn't. The one thing they enjoyed the most though was Movie Night. Every Friday night the losers would get together at someones house, ok fine every Friday night the losers would get together at Ben’s house because he was the only one who had both a TV and normal parents. Nobody would EVER miss it, well that was probably because it had only been going on for about a month, but still they had a record. So of course when Eddie woke up feeling off he knew he just couldn't miss movie night, they would all expect him to be the one to break the record, he wasn't sick nearly as much as his mother said he was, but he did get sick like a lot. He woke up in his bed sheets sticky with sweat, and just brushed it off his head was pounding, so he decided to get some Advil when he went downstairs, but being sure not to be too obvious about his pain so that his mother would let him go to school. He put the Advil in his fanny pack and walked up to the breakfast table in his red stripped shirt and fairly short shorts. “Eddie, Honey don't forget to take your pills!” He heard his mom call from the next room over as she put in her earrings. “I wouldn't dream of it Ma.” He replied simply. Sonia walked into the room and began making eggs. “Eddie you look a little pale did you sleep alright?” “You know pale skin can be caused by reduced blood flow, or oxygen, oh goodness it can also mean you have a decreased number of red blood cells!” “Oh Eddie this is not good maybe we should go to the Doctor so he can make sure...” She was cut off by Eddie “Ma, Im fine I just am a little uh hungry.” She looked a little skeptical, but gave in anyways “Oh alright well then you better eat a lot of eggs this morning.” He gulped quietly even the thought of eating anything much less a large portion of it made his stomach twist up in knots, he just prayed he could keep these eggs down. “Yes mommy.” He ate his eggs and he felt his stomach gurgle, He would be fine he thought, yes as soon as he got to school he would be fine. He hopped on his bike and pedaled slowly, much slower than usual, maybe this was because he felt very weak and tired, or maybe so that he wouldn't be seeing the eggs he just ate on the sidewalk in front of him. Whatever the reason he couldn't keep it up for long, once he got to the next turn the losers would be there waiting for him, and they would know something was up if he biked this slowly. Then a thought crossed his mind, what if he was late?! Eddie Kaspbrak had never once been late to school, he would miss from time to time when he was sick, but never was he late. Then another thought crossed his mind, What if the losers had gone with ought him?! He could not get this thought out of his head, he felt the walls of his brain closing in on him, and his airway getting tighter, he reacher into his fanny pack and puller out his inhaler. Taking a puff from it made these sensations almost immediately go away, but the taste made him gag, he felt a trail of spit and mucus fall off his bottom lip. Thank god he had not thrown up, was all he could think. Rounding the corner he saw that all the losers were there waiting for him. He felt very relived, but then he remembered that he would have to pick up his pace by quite a bit in order to suppress suspicion and to keep up with his friends. “Hey Eddie over here, You good?” He heard Bev say “Uh, yeah I’m fine.” He plastered on a fake smile “You look like shit dude, rough night with your mom, because I know I had one, You should have seen her all over me Eds...” “Beep Beep Richie! Fucking Beep beep Trashmouth.” “Oh Eddie Spaghetti you know you secretly love your future step dad!” “Shut...the fuck....up.” Eddie said “C-c-come on guys we are g-go-gonna be late for s-s-sch-school.” Bill said “Yeah hurry the fuck up Eddie.” Richie said. But Eddie could not hurry up the only thing he could to was slowly ride his bike while attempting to not gag, he felt like when his mother had brought him to church, it was so hot and stuffy, it made him feel almost faint, and he had kept gagging and coughing, so they had to leave. It was actually exactly like that, his knees buckled similarly to how they did when he had to kneel on the kneelers, and he felt stiff and uncomfortable like he was sitting on the hard wooden pew, he felt like the air was filled with sweat and it was hard to get a good breath, but this time it was not the sweaty air of the people in the church but his own. Eddie tried to peddle faster but his legs ached like they had not been used in 20 years and his head pounded like he had been punched in the face. “Coming.” Was all he could say, and he was but just rather slowly. The worried looks on his friends faces was enough to make him forget his pain, he HATED being fussed over, so he quickly peddled past his friends and they all laughed, including him. They arrived at school and the whole day Eddie felt like he was on one of those roller coasters that spun around and around and around, and went upside down while spinning, the kind that kicked your shoes off if they weren't lace ups. Twice he had to excuse himself (With permission of the teacher of course) To go to the bathroom and gag, he thought he would throw up, and he thought it might even feel better if he threw up, but all he was left with were dry heaves, and trails of spit humiliatingly leaving his mouth rolling off his bottom lip. The end of the day bell came and went and Eddie and his friends walked toward their homeroom, well more like Eddie, Richie, Ben and Bill, you see Beverly was two grades older than them, and Stanley was one grade below, not younger, because he really was their same age, he had just had to be held back, and not because he was dumb like Henry Bowers, oh no Stanley was smart. “Quite a smart cookie” his mom had said and she was right, he had been held back because he had to start school late, he was a rather sickly kid in Kindergarten, a trait which he outgrew, but unfortunately Eddie did not. They all biked over to Bens’s house happy to see Mike at the door step waiting for them. Mike was still homeschooled, so they didn't see him quite as much as they wished they did, but he always was there after school waiting for them to get out, and always wanting to know if anything interesting happened that day. Then the losers would all tell him about what happened and there was lots of laughter at this part of the day. “Guys, what movie do you want to watch?” Mike asked “I think we should watch the mummy, it will be scary for both Ben and Eddie!” Richie said “And I can fill Eddie in on all the details of how I fucked his mummy while he hides his face in my shoulder!” everyone laughed including Eddie but he still said “Shut the fuck up Richie” Between laughs. Eddie hated scary movies, but the losers had a habit of watching them, so like Richie had said Eddie would usually hide is face in Richie’s shoulder. They went inside and turned on the movie, but Eddie was so tired he felt like he just had to go upstairs, even if it wasn't his house. Ben’s house had 2 stories and a couch on each one, so Eddie asked Ben if he could go upstairs because he was tired and of course Ben said yes. “Aw come on Eds we don't really have to watch the mummy.” Richie said “Yeah we can watch something not scary.” Bev added “Don't listen to them Eddie if your tired you should go to sleep and come down later, it wouldn't break our record, don't be bribed by these fuckers.” Stan said in response. “Just down hook up with Ben’s Mom!” Richie cried as Eddie walked up the stairs earning him a middle finger from Eddie. An hour later Eddie woke up feeling like death itself and walked down the stairs. His throat hurt and his hair was all tanged, the losers were in the middle of a 2 hour long movie and It was pretty loud so nobody heard Eddie coming down the stairs “Richie” Eddie said in a horse voice he not only felt like death he sounded like death too all the losers whipped their heads around and Richie said “Oh my God Eddie what the Fuck happened to you.” Richie ran up to Eddie and Bev was the second to do so, followed by Bill, and the rest of the losers who didn't really want to get sick (Mike, Ben, and Stan) Eddie walked into the kitchen and all the other losers followed, he felt very overwhelmed. “Eddie are you okay..?” Ben asked “No dumbass he's not okay.” Stan replied “Shut the fuck up stan the man and Haystack!” “I think my little Eddie Spaghetti is trying to say something.” Richie said to the arguing boys. Eddie opened his mouth not sure what he was going to say he felt so overwhelmed, so many people around him and he was being fussed over, he didn't know what to do they were all looking at him. He shut his mouth, more stares, he just was so overwhelmed he felt a hot tear triple down his face, he didn't even want to see their reaction to that, he latched on to Richie hugging him, the smaller boy put his face into Richie’s chest, crying. Richie huge him back they just held onto each other for a second until Richie said “Whats wrong my little Edward Spaghedward?” Muffled nosies was Eddies reply until he said “I can't.” “You can't what Eds?” Richie was trying to be sincere, and he was succeeding, but he thought he had failed miserably when Eddie’s shoulders started to shake, now he was not only crying he was silently sobbing.  “Everyones looking at me..” Hiccup “I can't...” Hiccup “I don't feel good.” he hurried his head deeper into Richie’s chest at this. “Don't worry Eds They are gonna go finish the movie, right guys?” Without hesitation Mike, Stan, and Ben went to finish the movie Bill, whose big brother instincts had taken over wanted to stay but ultimately decided it was best to go finish the movie, not only because helping Eddie was not what Eddie wanted, but also because it made him think more about Gorgie, and he really didn't want to join the sobbing party. “Bev, are you um gonna leave now..?” Richie said trying his best not to sound like a complete jackass “I’m not leaving, you don't know how to make him feel better, because you don't know anything about taking care of sick people, Eddie knows the most about it but I do know quite a bit.” “I care about him, not in the same way you do but, he's my friend and I hate to see him suffer.” Beverly finished up her explanation “I now deem you Mom of the group.” Richie said hitting beverly on the head with his hand. “Yeah ok great whatever Richie shouldn't we be focusing on Eddie right now?” Beverly stated flatly. Eddie who still had his face buried in Richies chest had began to subside his sobs until his shoulders were no longer bouncing up and down like that jello you get at the fair. “I don't feel good.” Eddie said quietly his voice was so small and in pain it broke Richie’s heart. “I know Eddie your gonna be okay though.” Richie tried to be reassuring but it was not as much of a second nature for him as cussing or doing his voices was. “Rich, I’m gonna go see if Ben has a thermometer, I’m worried that Eddie has a fever he seems sort of...I don't know out of it I guess.” Richie looked confused.   “That can be caused by fevers.” She added. “Oh okay well you go then I’ll stay here with my little Edward Spaghedward.” He smiled. “Pfft like you have a choice.” She chuckled at her own comment which was followed by Richie’s laughter, she headed off to talk to Ben on the off chance he might know where his own thermometer was. I swear these boys are so unorganized, they don't even know where there own school things are much less things in their house! She thought, but ultimately decided to talk to Ben anyway.  Richie didn't know what to do he had a most likely fever induced, delirious Eddie hanging onto him for dear life, fucking crying into his chest! He loved his Eddie spaghetti with his whole heart and would do anything for him, its not that this situation was awkward, no no it was far from that, the issue was that Richie could hardly take care of himself, how could he make sure his sick little Eddie was well taken care of? He had no prior knowledge on sickness before he met Eddie, and even after knowing him for like forever he never actually listened to the things Eddie was saying! Oh why didn't he listen!? Part of him wished that Eddie had latched onto Beverly, Richie knew that she had taken some dumb babysitting course so that she could get some extra money for the movies, well it’s not like she had told him but he had seen the certificate on her wall. Beverly Marsh certificate of  achievement for completing the Red Cross babysitting course in Derry Maine. What a bunch of bullshit, nobody could tell you how to babysit you just like watched the baby right? Richie did not know much about babysitting, and he never had and never planned to babysit. Richies thoughts were interrupted by a small squeak. “You okay?” Richie asked, he had no fucking idea what would make a person squeak like actually squeak, and if it were a different senero Richie would have laughed and made one of his famous jokes about it, but this was not that senero, instead Richie was worried that he had perhaps hugged Eddie too tightly, or maybe that Eddie was in pain. “Stomach..” Eddie replied softly “Do you feel like your gonna throw up?” Richie asked while stroking Eddie’s hair gently “I-I-I uh I don't know.” Eddie was shutting his eyes tightly he could feel his stomach twisting and turning and it was really painful, he felt tears in his eyes, not only from the crying but new ones created by this ache. His throat burned, acidic bile trailed up, he pulled away from Richie. This was enough clue for Richie to know that Eddie was going to throw up, he quickly helped Eddie over to the sink, which wasn't necessarily the best place to throw up, but it was better than the ground right? Eddie just could not bring himself to empty the contents of his ever churning stomach, he just could not do it, Eddie did not like to look at vomit, nobody did, but just thinking about all the germs and bacteria that a person threw up was enough to bring him into a panic attack. He knew he would feel better if he threw up, well he knew but it didn't really register, what did register was the fact that he would have to open his eyes and see his own vomit all over the sink, which would so surely put him into a panic attack, he felt bad enough already that was most certainly not what he needed. “Richie I-I-I I can't..” “Your not gonna throw up then?” Richie said relived “I’m too scared to.. I just don't wanna open my eyes and see it there reeking with all those germs and bacteria, its just I can I mean do you even know how many germs live inside of vomit..” He gaged. Richie rubbed circles onto Eddie’s back “Just let it out your gonna feel so much better, you can close your eyes okay?” “Just let it out okay?” Eddie could not talk he was so concentrated on not vomiting. It burned his throat more to hold back the vomit then it did to actually just puke, but the logical side of his brain was all out of proportion right now. “Your gonna hurt yourself trying to not puke Eds, Just feel the circles I'm rubbing on your back?” “They are gonna help you to just let go, I’m going to count to three alright, three and when I get to three you just relax, stop making your body tense up, and just puke, then you can just close your eyes, I’m going to help you up and that will be it.” “No big deal.” Richie said. No big deal Eddie reaped to himself, no big deal. “Okay Ready Spaghetti?” “One......” Eddie tried to relax a little more feeling the circles being rubbed on his back. No big deal no big deal. “Two....” Eddie was almost fully relaxed but he was still holding the vomit in. “Three.” It burned in the back of his throat, his eyesight was blurred with the tears as all his lunch, and some stomach acid was brought up, he heard to splash, watery vomit splashed all over the sink, after a few minutes though, it was over. “Shh shh, that's it my little spaghetti man, your okay, your okay, no big deal right?” “Now just keep your eyes closed shut them super tight, Im going to help you get back up from this leaning position.” Eddie did as he was told, he couldn't bear to open his eyes anyways so it was pretty easy. Richie helped Eddie back up, and wiped his mouth with a paper towel. “Feel any better Eds?” Eddie was looking very pale, and he replied with “Sort of.” Richie knew Eddie well better than any of the other losers, so he knew that Eddie was about to start crying before it even happened. He pulled him into his chest and Eddie cried, he cried because he felt like shit, and because he was aware of the smell of his own vomit, although Eddie did not know it he was somewhat afraid of vomit. So that's another reason why he cried, he cried because he felt safe to cry, safe with Richie holding him, and safe enough to show his true emotions. Richie hugged the smaller boy until he stopped crying, Beverly walked back into the room, aware immediately of the smell, well it was kind of hard to miss, and bearing with her the thermometer. Eddie went to sit down in one of the chairs positioned around a small circular wooden table just to the left of the kitchen. “He threw up?” She asked very quietly praying to god Eddie couldn’t hear. “Yeah.” Richie replied. “Oh, poor thing he's gonna be okay though as soon as we found out the source of his problems, which is most likely a fever.” “by the way how did you get him to like actually throw up?” Eddie got sick a lot, and he was always with his friends so they had seen him sick before a lot, but never so....you know out of it. They knew that it took hours of pain where Eddie would just hold back the vomit, and when he finally would throw up, have a like severe panic attack. Eddie had emetophobia, although nether him or the losers had such a fancy name for it, they just said he was afraid of vomit, afraid of the word even. well that was only sometimes, one very very bad days where Eddie had come to school after being yelled at by his mom for not washing his hands before coming to school, or something crazy like that where she would scare him about all these diseases, they all had bad days though, and understood that on these bad days they had to take care of each other.  “Lets go see if he has a fever.” Beverly said. “Righto my good chap, lets go fix ‘im up good oh yes indeed, fix ‘im up old chap, lets see what in the good hell has gotten my small small SMALL spaghetti into such the funk.” Richie said doing his Toodles the butler voice. “Oh Richie....” Beverly said as they walked over to their small pale looking friend. “How are you feeling Eddie?” Beverly asked. “I don't feel good.” he said putting his head on the table. “Oh no call the doctor, call the nurse, call Eddie’s mom oh yeah I was meaning to do that anyways we had wicked se...” He was cut off by Bev’s “Beep Beep Richie.” “Oh yeah right beep beep hehe.”Richie replied “Here Eddie just put this in your mouth and when it beeps give it to me.” Beverly said in her best mom voice. “What the fuck no, do you know how many germs could be on that?” “so many plus, I don't know whose mouth that has been in.” Eddie replied replaced by the idea of putting that in his mouth. “Aha, I thought you might say something like that, which is why I got some probe covers, yes yes now you don't have to worry at all about germs.” Beverly replied. “See ol’ chap ye don't have to worry a tall about germs, not a tall!” Richie added in his toodles voice. “Germs are everywhere, no probe cover ca stop them...” “Okay come on Eddie that’s bullshit and you know it, I saw you use a thermometer with a probe cover just last week!” Bev exclaimed. “I just I don't want to se what it says ....” Eddie replied a bit sheepishly “What,what the fuck not?” Richie said. “If I have a fever then I have o feel like shit for longer, and if I don't then its like I was crying for no reason and I just feel like shit for no reason I don't want you guys to think im like you know overreacting.” Eddie answered. “Oh Eddie don't worry about that, we never think your overreacting, things can be painful, not just fevers.” Beverly said while pulling him into a hug. “thanks Bev.” He said. they took Eddie’s temperature and saw that it was a whopping 101 degrees (F) “Here Richie can you put some water on this cloth, we need to bring his fever down.” they both turned around at a sudden gag coming from the small ill boy. “Oh fuck, are you gonna throw up Eds?” Richie asked. “Richie!” Beverly said, can I talk to you for a minute? “Oh yeah sure, but umm Eddie he looks sorta...” “Just come over here.” She said interrupting him. “okay.” he walked over. ”what's up?” “We shouldn't say like you know throw up, vomit, puke, whatever you want to call it, because first of all he's already thrown up what little he's eaten today, and also its just going to make him upset, look at him.” Eddie was leaning over in his chair, arms crossed on the table, head buried in them, softly crying, he was breathing kind of funny too. “Shit.” Richie did not want to make his little Eddie cry, he loved him, he needed to think before he spoke, which was so fucking hard for a certain trashmouth. “just go put some water on this cloth, cold water, and then put it on his head okay?” Bev said a little annoyed with Richie, but knowing that Eddie would freak out if she asked him to sit down and finish the movie. “Yes sir thank you sir.” Richie did in one of his newer voices, Albert the solider. Richie walked over to the sink, and put some cold water on the cloth while Bev went to get some medicine to bring Eddie’s fever down. “How are you Eddie Spaghetti?” “feeling any better?” richie said white putting more water onto the rag. “Never better.” Eddie said in a slurred voice. “Here, this will help you feel better, bring down your fever.” Richie said hopping this trick of Bev’s would work. “K.” Eddie was obviously exhausted. Richie took the cloth, and rung it out over eddies head . “what the fuck was that?!” Eddie said, now soaking wet. “Its supposed to bring your fever down, don't ask me!” Richie replied. “You dumbass, I’m all wet now!” Eddie screamed furiously. “Funny, that's what your mom said last night too.” Richie said seizing the opportunity. Eddie did something that suprised Richie, he went back into his kowla bear state, hugging him like it was life or death. “Eddie, I’m so sorry, I know you feel like shit, I love you, I’m just trying to take good care of you best I know how.” “I know I'm shit at but I just want to be here for you, and make you feel better.” Richie said to the now crying little Eddie. “I love you too, Im not crying because you made me all wet, im crying because...” hiccup “because I really don't  feel good.” Eddie said softly into Richie’s chest.”Its okay Eddie we are gonna get you all. fixed up, I promise.” Richie said, Eddie was slowly falling asleep, he was just so tired, it had been a long day, so Eddie and Richie went to sit on the couch with all the other losers, well, minus Bev who was still getting the fever medicine. The losers where very concerned about Eddie, but he didn’t even have time to react, before he knew it Richie had pulled Eddie on top of him, where Eddie fell asleep, safe, and happy, a little wet, well soaking, but nothing a little towel, or time couldn’t fix. He was happy, and so was Richie.

Some side notes:

I made this at 3am, I really wanted to go to sleep so I just sort of ended it quickly. If you don't like the ending message me, and I MIGHT rewrite it, also message me if you have any requests. :D My favorite things to write are like anything with a venerable Eddie, and Richie taking care of him, usually I don't post the things I write, and usually Richie is very good at taking care of Eddie, but this is what my brain decided to do at 3am. Don't be too harsh, but constructive criticism is always welcome.

[wildefire]

Gotta Be Prepared

This is for @teamcap4bucky‘s 2K challenge. I was cleaning out my docs and saw this, and had an immediate reaction of “COME ON MAN” because I was supposed to have posed this 80 million years ago.

Steve Rogers x (Female)reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Mention of minor injury and alcohol, swearing.

Life being an Avenger was… interesting. You fought, you seduced, you fought some more, and a majority of the time you loved what you did. You were just a normal human, but you did think of yourself as a little above standard… which is why, currently, you’re running a training op with SHIELD trainees. In the woods. You know, just the normal stuff. 

Wrong. You were up against a team that was mixed with the Avengers, and trainees. Of course, you weren’t quite against having mostly enhanced people coming after you. Except, you were you; cocky, secure, confidant, and most of all, you really wanted to win. 

Each Avenger had their own squad of trainees that they coached and helped out- which was quite beneficial to both parties, because trainees were well-versed in some things that some of the avengers couldn’t do. (SHIELD trainees could, and would run kill missions for SHIELD against HYDRA or AIM members, or run a capture of someone too high-profile for the Avengers to go after, with the whole sokovia accords thing. The Avengers couldn’t operate in Berlin, but SHIELD agents could because, you know, the whole “dead” organization thing. Most were operating under some form of intelligence committee, namely agencies like INTERPOL and the CIA- sometimes the NSA.)

The woods really are pretty in springtime. Especially in upstate New York, where there's a different vibe to everything. More calm, less chaos. Sadly, you didn’t have time to climb the Oaks, or look at the pretty flowers. You only had time to quietly tell your teammates orders, and observe your surroundings. 

“Alright guys. So, this is the plan. Run like hell. Bucky and Steve are fast as fuck, and they also know how to move suddenly, so zig-zagging won’t work. The main goal is to outsmart them. Do whatever you can to get them to not come after you, but, please don’t let them catch you. If one of you goes down, I don’t get the chance at the spa day, and neither do you. Who you really want to watch out for, though, is Natasha. She’s silent, and, as you all know, deadly. If you see her, you best be sprinting as fast as you can. Don’t hide, it doesn’t go well. Clint can see a mile away, but if you make it difficult for him, he may give up, but it’s not likely. If you see him, he can see you. If you can’t see him… well, he may be able to see you. Stay in groups of two. If one goes down, the other does too. I’ll be with y’all. Now, be free!”

At that, your team runs off in their partners. You decided that you’d have fun, and climb a tree and be Tarzan for a minute. Once you’d gotten to the strong branches, you stood up, get your balance, and began to run. You jumped from tree to tree, branches whipping your face and leaves getting caught in your hair, but you didn’t care. You loved it. As you jumped to the ground, you heard your earpiece crackle.

“Y/n, what do you do if your teammate sprained their ankle?”

“You do exactly what you’re doing right now. Where are you?”

“A clearing with three oaks and a patch of lavender. I think we’re near a creek?”

“I know where you are. I’ll be there in two minutes tops.”

You looked around, making sure that nobody was near you. They weren’t. You ran forwards, and took a left, jumping over a fallen log and rolling under another. You stood up, and froze- you thought that you’d heard a voice that most certainly not your teammates. Better get there fast, you thought. You continued running, and took a few more jumps and bounds, over small canyons, or dips in the ground. You burst into the clearing, and saw your teammates. 

“Ryan, Quincy, are you both sure that you weren’t followed,” you asked in a whisper. Both looked at you with wide eyes, and then at each other. Newbies, they didn’t know. You sighed, and motioned for Quincy to hold out her ankle. It was sprained, pretty badly. You took out an ace bandage from her backpack, as well as some aspirin. You wrapped her ankle, and made her take the painkillers. It’d help with the soreness a little later, and with the pain now. You hoisted her up, and brought her to a log. 

“I’m gonna have to call Rhodey, so he can take you to the infirmary. I’ll take up being Ryan’s partner, and you don’t have to worry, you won’t be punished. You guys are new, and this means that you can learn from it, and be stronger.” You took out a walkie-talkie, and spoke into it. 

“Rhodey, I need a lift out for one of my teammates, she sprained her ankle, and can’t participate in the game.”

“I’ll be there in five, can you put a tracker out so I know exactly where she is?”

“Already out. See you after, Rhodey.” “See you after. Good luck, Y/n.”

You turned off the walkie-talkie, and put it back into Quincy’s bag. “So long, dearie. You’ll be right as rain once you’ve been put into the machine.”

Her expression was between scared and confused. You looked at Ryan, and jerked your head to the right, and began to run. You could hear him swear, and hightail it after you. Your earpiece crackle again, and this time it was FRIDAY, letting you know the point of which you would be winning at. You stopped, and so did Ryan. 

“We’re going to go to that tree on the left, and then we’re gonna have to Tarzan it for a second, if we wanna be in the clear of Barnes and Rogers. They typically guard the first Mile around the checkpoint.”

“Tarzan it?”

“We’re going to be running around in the trees, as well as jumping from tree from tree. I know that you have telekinesis. That is useful, and this is a good test to your ability to multitask.”

He nods, and you leap up into the tree, aided by a telekinetic boost. The both of you begin to run, Ryan following your directions. You begin to slow, and Ryan stops your movement, and keeps you steady on the branch. 

“Ok, so game plan. We’re gonna get out of the trees, and we’re gonna make a break for it. If one of the two soldiers show up, run as fucking fast as you can.”

“Got it.”

“Go.”

The both of you ran, and it was glorious for the time that lasted. Soon you saw a giant blonde man running for you, and you swore. 

You shouted at Ryan “GO, GO, GO,” and kicked your speed up to a full-out sprint. He went left, and you went right, both in a dead sprint. You could see the checkpoint ahead, and Ryan did too. Neither of you let up with your speed, and you dove forwards. So did he, and you both made it. 

“Holy shit, I just outran a supersoldier! Y/n, I just outran a supersoldier!”

“Congratulations, Ryan! That’s a feat that not many accomplish,” you said. “Our team has won! Now we don’t have to do 3 am’s for the next week! And, I get a spa day too, which is pretty awesome.” You looked at Steve, who was just… standing there. 

“There was a prize for us?”

“Yep. We just didn’t tell you, because we wanted it to be fueled by the need to win, not for a proposed outcome other than winning.”

“Makes sense, I think.” At that moment, Steve turned his head, and sprinted in the direction of which he’d come. You noted this wearily, and so did Ryan.

“Yeah, I don’t get it either. I’m driven on a reward-based system. Do this workout, eat some cookies. Deadlift this weight, get my hair dyed, that sort of thing.”

“I’m not sure what my drive is, to be honest.”

“That's fine! You’re still young. I think. How old are you?”

“Twenty.” 

“Yeah! You’re still young! You have time. For now, just follow your gut, and, of course, your orders.”

You could hear the undergrowth crunching and twigs snapping as people ran towards the two of you, hoping for security and safety. You wished them the best, but you knew that your team had already won. You grinned as you saw Bucky barreling towards them, running faster that anyone (except for Steve) could. You saw that it wasn’t anyone from your team, and had no qualms about them getting tagged. Just as Barnes was about to grab them, one of them crashed, head over heels. Game over. You smirked, left the circle, and offered your hand. “Do you need Advil? That looked like a rough fall.” The trainee grabbed your hand, and pulled herself up. “I’d love Advil. Maybe a margarita too.”

“Ha! I think that can be arranged.” 

“Advil, please.”

“I got you. Take off your bag.” She took it off, and sat down on the ground. You took out her water bottle and the pills, and handed them to her. “Sometimes my ability to foresee this type of thing comes in handy, right?” She nods as she swallows, and then there's an awkward silence. Oh, forget this, this is NOT it. You get up, look around, and sigh. 

“I don’t think that anyone is going to get here soon, so I’m gonna bounce. I know that y’all are probably pretty tired, but I’m antsy as fuck-” Lie “-so, I’ll see y’all later. Toodles.”

You walk away from the trio, and begin the trek (three minute walk) back to the compound, and you take out your phone for scientific purposes (to scroll through instagram) as you walk. You get so engrossed that you don’t hear the pounding feet and crunching leaves, which signal the incoming (typical) supersoldier. You only know that someone is behind you when you get tackled, and go tumbling towards the ground. As you “hit” the ground, you realize that someone had thought that you were still playing. You just weren’t sure yet. You suddenly realize that you’re laying on a rather muscled chest, and you realize that you’ve been there for a hot minute. You roll off of their chest, and look. Steve. 

“Did you just try to kill me? ‘Cause you’re doing a fantastic job of almost doing so. The blonde oaf just stands up, smiles, and hugs you. 

“No, I just wanted to say hi to my best girl without an audience.” You sigh, and melt into him, relishing in just how good of a pillow he is. He releases you, and you look up at him, to see him smiling down at you, with those brilliant eyes of his. You smile back, and reach up to give him a quick peck on the cheek, but he turns at the last minute and you end up kissing him on the lips. It was short and sweet, which was just how you liked it. 

“I love you babe.”

[bruciewayne]

as long as you want to

set in iron man 2, rhodeytony, hurt/comfort, 2.2k, on ao3

- for @iron-man-bingo

Certificate of Marriage

This certifies that

James Edward Rhodes

AND

Anthony Edward Stark

were united in marriage in the city of Las Vegas, in state of Nevada

36 Hours ago...

“Can I ask you something personal?” Tony asks, looking up at Natalie. She nods, a small and controlled movement and carries on dabbing concealer on his face. “If this was the last birthday party you were ever going to have, what would you do?” For him, it’s not really a question of if anymore, is it? But Natalie doesn’t have to know.

He’s debated telling Rhodey and Pepper, but that would just make the whole ‘dying’ part harder, before, when the toxicity was lower, there’d been no point in worrying them, when a cure was on the horizon, except now, his boat’s pretty much sunk, so there’s no point lighting a flare if no-one’s going to come in time.

He really, really should tell Rhodey. The first person who cared for him, out of choice, his first real friend, his first love (not that he knows, because that would be too much for him), god, fuck he should tell him, he deserves to know. But he can’t. It feels like the ultimate defeat.

Natalie stops pressing the beauty blender against his face and looks him in the eye.

“I would do whatever I wanted to do, with whoever I wanted to do it with,” she says, softly, holding his gaze. Tony swallows and breaks eye contact.

So he goes to Vegas.

(He didn’t take a single syllable of her advice. He wants to spend the night marathoning Star Wars with Rhodey, but he can’t be with Rhodey. Not now. It’ll be better for everyone. It’s better if he just pushes everyone away, just push and push until he doesn’t have anyone, but by that point, he’ll be dead anyway.

A man who has everything… and nothing.)

He gets there with the suit, it’s faster and results in fewer questions than the jet. And it’s a chance to show it off, which is always a plus. It might make getting back later harder, but in all honesty, he’d rather go out in a crash in the suit than the slow and painful end the palladium promised.

He lands, secures a room, opens a tab and gets as much alcohol in his system as possible while still being able to bet and mess around. He supposes that the palladium changed his tolerance, which was a shame in many ways, but now it just meant that he could get drunk faster.

He doesn’t know what he’s even doing, everything’s a blur. It’s the last birthday he’s ever going have and he won’t even fucking remember it.

Happy 40th birthday to him.

Whatever. He takes another shot and goes to roll the dice, but some guy stops him. Some guy with 2 heads? Rhodey! Oh fuck.

“Yeah, fuck,” he grumbles, voice just about getting through to Tony, “you’re coming with me.”

Tony knows that because of the whole ‘Iron Man’ thing he’s been fitter than he’s ever been in his life, but he’s still no match for Rhodey, so he’s very easily manhandled… somewhere. Easily, only in his eyes. For Rhodey, it was the farthest thing from ‘easy’, Tony kept trying to hug him, which he’s rarely opposed to, but now, it was just causing a general hinderance. He must be further gone than thought.

Eventually, they get out the casino and Rhodey gets in the Iron Man suit (he refuses to let Tony anywhere near controlling it when he’s this drunk, if he can’t drive a car, he can’t fly the suit).

“Colonel Rhodes,” JARVIS greets, after the mandatory retinal scans.

“Hey JARVIS,” Rhodey always made a point to interact with Tony’s ‘bots. He has a soft spot for Dum-E. (He pretends it’s not because he was the very first person he showed him to.)

“Take care of my creator, would you?” JARVIS says, and Rhodey doesn’t know if Tony’s truly mastered giving AI emotions, but he seems to speak profoundly, as if he were passing on a baton. There’s something Tony’s not telling him. But that’s not a priority right now.

“I’ll try my best.” For as long as he’s alive, he’ll always try to take care of him, always love him. At this point, it’s been so long, he doesn’t know if he can do anything else.

He grabs Tony and flies them up to his suite, they land on the balcony. He pushes him on the bed before getting out of the suit to JARVIS wishing him, “Good luck, Colonel.”

“Ooh I wouldn’t be oppos’d t’ this,” Tony says, well, slurs, really, head lolling - he’s been in Vegas for about an hour, maybe, Rhodey has no idea how he got this drunk already, but Tony’s always been good at defying his expectations. Rhodey thinks nothing of it, Tony’s just... like that. Platonically.

“Tones, I’m gonna get you some water, okay?” Rhodey says, pushing him so he’s leant against the headboard and tugging his shoes off. He goes to find a bottle of water (there’s one in the minifridge, nestled behind mini bottles of whiskey and cognac) and by the time he’s back, Tony’s on the verge of tears, body drawn into a small ball in the corner of the bed.

“Hey, hey, Tones, what’s going on,” he says, gently, coming next to him and kicking his own shoes off, he puts the water bottle on the bedside table and sits on the bed next to him. He wraps an arm around him, Tony’s terrible at asking for affection, but after all these years Rhodey knows, almost intrinsically, when he wants it.

Tony looks up at him with teary eyes and Rhodey feels his heart breaking for him.

“Rode- Rhodey… I’m,” he swallows, “I- this, fuck this’s hard, I--”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay, yeah,” Rhodey can’t listen to him try to force something out, so he pushes the water into his hand and rubs his back until he finishes it. Tony winds his arms around his waist and tucks his head into his neck.

“I’ll, I shouldn’t tell you like, like this, I- tomorrow. Promise,” Tony mumbles into his neck.

“Okay, okay, Tones, sleep, yeah,” Rhodey says, easing them down so they’re actually lying down and pulls Tony further into his arms, “sleep.”

Tony’s out like a light and Rhodey is staring up at the ceiling until the sun starts to filter in, holding the man he loves.

In the morning, well, afternoon, really, Tony wakes with a start. When he set out last night, he had half expected to end up naked in a stranger’s bed, but as soon as his other senses start to filter in he realises that, while he’s not in his own bed, it’s not a stranger with him. And he’s fully clothed.

“Hey,” Rhodey says, softly, running his hands through Tony’s hair.

Tony groans and buries his head back into the pillows. Right away, he can’t remember much of last night, he knows that he set out with the intent to get shit-faced, and he remembers arriving in the suit, but past that is just a blur. It should come back. Tony’s not too sure that he wants it to come back.

Usually, this is when Rhodey laughs. This time, he murmurs something about getting Advil and water and being back in ten. He untangles himself, much to his disappointment and goes. Tony falls back asleep.

When he wakes up again, there’s a packet of Advil and a couple water bottles on the nightstand, so he swallows two with a bottle of water before taking in the rest of the room. Rhodey’s out on the balcony talking to someone on the phone, but when he notices that Tony’s awake, he hangs up and comes back in.

“Hey, how are you doing?”

“Eh,” Tony replies, which translates into ‘it feels like an anvil fell on my head, and the light hurts a little’, so all in all, not as hungover as he thought he’d be. Rhodey gave him water last night. Which means that Rhodey was here last night. Which means, he probably said something.

“You want to order food or get picked up?” The iron man suit isn’t even in the question.

“Food.” He’s not really up for sentences or words longer than a syllable right now, and ‘picked up’ often means a disapointed Pepper, Rhodey and Happy. Now, it may even mean a disappointed Natalie.

“Breakfast?”

Tony manages a smile at that, “Yeah.” The only problem with breakfast is that food will ease up the hangover and clear up his brain, which means that he’ll remember what he did. Or said. Fuck.

After they’ve eaten Tony still isn’t sure of what he said last night, but he does know that there was crying involved on his part. He so rarely is the melancholy drunk.

‘I’m dying’ rang loud in his mind, it should be easy to say, 2 words, 3 syllables, but he can’t force it out and instead makes a promise he doesn’t know if he can keep.

Liquid courage indeed.

It comes easily this time. Maybe it’s the sober-ness, the lack of urgency. Rhodey still has his arm around him and they’re stretched out on the bed, the plates, empty, on the floor. He’s feeling relaxed.

“I’m dying,” he says, simply. It’s not a weight off his chest (ironically), it’s defeat, it’s admittance.

Rhodey stiffens up next to him, “How long...” do you have left? is the rest of the question, but he can’t bring himself to say it, hell, it hasn’t even really settled in that Tony’s dying.

“A month left.”

Rhodey doesn’t know what to say, so he pulls him into a hug, holding him tight, as if he held tight enough, death couldn’t take him. He knows Tony, he knows that he wouldn’t speak like this, wouldn’t admit defeat, if he hadn’t tried everything he could think of already.

“Important month?”

‘Then this is an important week for you, Stark, isn’t it?’

Tony could give a one-liner, and then they’d have a heavy talk, but on the other hand, Rhodey makes some incredibly valid points, in that, yeah, this is an important month for him.

So he kisses him. If he doesn’t like him then he only has a month of embarrassment anyway.

Rhodey kisses back. It’s sweet and languid, like they’ve been doing this for aeons already, like they should’ve been doing this for aeons.

“Marry me?” Tony says, breathlessly, when they pull away, a smile brightening his face, and fuck Rhodey had missed that damn smile.

“Are you still drunk?” He can’t get his hopes up, but just before Rhodey’s about to start his ‘Don’t get your hopes up for Tony’ speech, the very man in question eases out of bed, sticks his arms out and walks in a perfectly straight line.

Rhodey grins. “Let’s get married!”

On the way to a courthouse (Tony got them bumped up so they wouldn’t have to wait), Tony asks Rhodey, “How long?”

“You remember when you made Dum-E, when you showed me?”

“That long?”

“Yeah.”

Tony rolls his eyes, “I can’t believe that we could’ve been married for decades already.” There’s more that they could’ve said, should’ve said, about how long they’ve loved, why they’ve kept quiet, but that seems irrelevant now and in the moment.

“Better late than never, huh?”

The smile on Tony’s face is ridiculously sappy, he knows that, but he can’t find it in himself to stop it, “Yeah.”

The ceremony is short and quick. They’ve waited over 2 decades, any more would be lost time. They’re both smiling so bright, because none of it feels real, none of it ever seemed tangible, but now it is. And they only have a month left.

They’re back in the hotel, in the exact same positions they were in before they were married.

“Rhodey, I was serious, I, I only have a month left,” Tony says, breaking the silence and bursting their bubble. He doesn’t want to go back to Malibu, if, when, he goes back, everything’s going to be so, so much more real, now, in Vegas he can pretend that his problems don’t exist

“Tony, if there’s anything you can do, it’s go against the odds, regardless of those odd--”

“Yeah, but this time, Rhodey, I don’t know if I can,” Tony interrupts, he sits up, turns himself to face him and unbuttons his shirt, revealing the extent of the poisoning. “Look me in the eye and tell me I can fix this,” Tony challenges, he’s angry, but he’s also begging, he doesn’t want to die, he wants to, he has to, live. For Rhodey.

“Do you want to?” Rhodey challenges back, voice barely above a whisper.

Tony doesn’t answer.

“Tony Stark, do you want to live?”

“Yes.”

Rhodey pulls him into a hug, “Then you will, baby, you will, this isn’t your last birthday, you are going to celebrate you 42nd and 3rd and 4th until you’re old and grey and even then, that damn heart of yours is going to keep on beating, as long as it needs to, as long as you want it to.”

-

iron man bingo masterpost

[undertaleowl]

How would the UT and US skelebros react if they came home to find their S/o crying on the couch, when they ask what happened they explain that their family kicked them out and dont want anything to do with them because of their depression and anxiety. That they dont want their psychotic bullshit or for them to infect them. (This actually happened to me and I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable)

I’m so sorry, lovely. No one deserves that, literally no one. I hope this imagine does you justice. I know that it’s probably a super personal thing you don’t want to talk about too much, but in case you do, my inbox is always open. Imagine is underneath the cut

NOTE: this will be tagged tw: trauma. Just because this ask covers a wide variety of things that may be triggering to certain individuals, even if I can’t immediately identify them. Thanks.

UT Sans

Despite being your mate, Sans’ “big brother” instincts go off hard and fast when he sees you sobbing and trying to control yourself while sitting on the couch. He rushes over to you (that’s how you know he’s worried, he actually rushes to you) and pulls you into his chest to let you cry for as long as you need to. No, don’t worry about getting his jacket wet, just cry. He pets the back of your head, being careful to not get his phalanges tangled in it, and just tries to soothe you to the best of your ability. Once he’s confident that he can leave you for a few minutes, he short-cuts to Grillby’s to get some of his hot chocolate for you. Literally, this normally lazy skeleton will do everything he can to calm you down and make everything better.

After a couple more minutes of creating an aura of comfort for you, Sans finally coaxes you to tell him what had happened to make you so upset. When he does, he can’t stop his eye from flashing yellow and cyan as a furious flash of magic washes over his body. He shudders as he suppresses the magic for the time being. Him getting angry is not gonna help you right now. He’s patient and calm, letting you explain the situation at your own pace.

Once you’re finished, Sans immediately offers to let you stay at his place. It can be permanent, it can be temporary, whatever you want. You want to share a room with him? Sure thing, pal. You want your own room? They can move all of the stuff out of Pap’s trophy room back to his room, and that can be your own space. No, no, don’t worry about going back…there to get anything. Sans will teleport back and forth to get you anything you need.

Sans very rarely will assume a position of control, but if that’s what he needs to do to support you, he’ll do it in a soulbeat.

UT Papyrus

Like Sans, he is quick to take action. However, because of his “act first, think later” nature, he doesn’t help all that much first. His instinct is to hug you, because hugs make everything better, don’t they? However, this was…different. You didn’t show a sign of stopping, which has never happened with Papyrus before. He knew what that type of crying meant, thanks to his experience dating you and having Secretive Skeleton Extraordinaire as a brother. He still hasn’t gotten the hang of immediately ameliorating emotional hurts, but he can heal the physical hurts that may have been caused by the emotional hurts.

He assures you that he will be right back as he wraps the softest blanket in the house around your shoulders and hurries off to wet a couple washcloths with cold water. When he gently maneuvers you to lie down on the couch, he places one of the washcloths against your eyes, which were probably sore from crying so much. He placed one of the washcloths against your wrist, since that would help you cool your body temperature down faster. If you were going to be distraught, you were going to be the most comfortable distraught person ever. Just knowing that he could help you in some way turns him into the ultimate source of calm. He goes and gets you a glass water to help you re-hydrate yourself, and some Advil (bought when you had become his datemate; the Great Papyrus is always prepared!) to help if you have a dehydration headache.

Eventually, his physical comforts comfort you emotionally as well, so now you can tell him what had gotten his lovely, beautiful, amazing datemate in such a state, hm? He is silent during the entirety of your story. His first response is that you will stay with him. You can decide to leave at any time of course, but at least for two weeks, stay with him and Sans, please. When you question about going to get your stuff, your medications if you have them, or anything else, he’ll just cut you off with a soothing, “Shush.”

He’ll go talk to your parents tomorrow, but for now, he was going to keep you safe in his arms. No depression, anxiety, or misunderstanding parents were ever going to take you from him.

US Sans

His older brother protective instincts go off, only he deals with it in a less calculated manner than UT Sans. Instead of being soothing, he immediately assumes that someone has hurt you and is demanding that you tell him what happened so that he can help you. He really does mean well, just wanting to get to the bottom of the problem that is obviously making you so upset. However, his method of trying to help doesn’t really help you at first, so Sans has to take a step back and think about what is going to help you in the here and now, not sometime in the future.

He apologizes sheepishly and sits next to you and begins to rub your back, especially in particular parts of your spine. As a high strung skeleton, Sans has figured out his body so that it can calm down for him when he mentally doesn’t know how. In short, this boy knows about acu-pressure, and he is definitely going to use it on you, all while murmuring reassurances into your ear and into your hair.

He gently massages your the nerve on your wrist, right between the pinkie and ring fingers, which is supposed to help with immediate anxiety. After a few minutes, he turns his fingers to the muscles in between your index finger and thumb and massages the middle firmly, which was supposed to help stress reduction.  He gently pinches the shoulder blades and then rubs them a little more firmly for about thirty seconds. He can feel you tension decreasing, and instead of constricted, heaving breaths, your breathing has become unlabored, even if tears still shine brightly in your eyes.

Sans can’t help but sigh with relief when you finally whimper his name into the crook of his neck. You’ve come back to him, just as you’ve always done.

“Welcome back, dear.”

He doesn’t ask any questions, so when he finds out why you were so upset, it’s because you told him on your own accord. You can feel him tense behind you as you cuddle into him, but he assures you that you’re welcome to stay as long as you need. Truth be told, he’d been thinking about asking you to move in with him a for a while, but he’s not going to bring that up right now.

After you fall asleep, he looks up legal ways to destroy your birth-givers in court.

US Papyrus

He is a hot mess with his own emotions, so when all of your emotions are pouring out, he doesn’t know exactly how to make you feel better. However, his instincts are pretty damn good, so he just goes with what his first instinct is. He turns on YouTube and looks up Vine Compilations, may Vine rest in peace. Does he think that will automatically get you to stop crying? No, absolutely not, but in his experience, in times when there’s extreme emotions at play, so intense that it makes a certain part of your body tense up, then it helps to have a distraction. Since your eyes are no doubt occupied at the moment, then that means sound is the best medium of distraction.

Sometimes, too many sounds can become overwhelming, so you and Papyrus share a pair of bright orange earbuds. In your unoccupied ear, you hear the occasional “I love you” and “it’s going tibia okay”, and “it’s just us now”, all things that he wished someone would have said to him whenever he went into one of his spells.

After a three-hour long vine compilation, you finally tell him what had happened to you, and all he can do is wince and flinch. How cruel and ignorant do you have to be to throw out your own child over something that they don’t have control over? That’s like kicking them out because they have cancer. It doesn’t make sense to him, and he is 100 percent willing to be that support that your parents were stupid enough not to give you. He doesn’t ask you to stay. He begs you to stay, even though you were hoping that he and his brother would let you stay in the first place. He’s so worried for you, so worried for you. All he wants is for you to be safe, and by the Angel, he’s going to make sure that you feel safe and loved, no matter what happens.

He asks what you want to do about your parents. If you want to leave them be and never see them again? Fine. You want to go and give them a piece of your mind? He’ll stand behind you and look intimidating as fuck. You want a restraining order? He’ll go to the police station first thing tomorrow.

He loves you so much, and he WILL find a way to make sure that you love yourself too.

[pillowfluffs]

Best Friend!Baekyun

Part 1 of 2

genre: fluff

pairing: Baekhyun x Reader (female)

Part 2

Byun Baekhyun. One of the best people you’ve ever encountered in your life. Ever since your mothers met each other while dropping the both of you off at daycare, a friendly relationship bloomed and continued to present day, you just turned 24 and he just turned 25. 

(It’s fate, you both have the same birthday). You woke up to the sun shining brightly through your white curtains after a long night of partying and celebrating with both of your guys’ friends. You feel a slight pounding in your head as the effect of alcohol from last night’s shots kicking back in. You rubbed your head, yawning, and reached over to the drawers next to your bed and pulled out some Advil. After taking the Advil, you laid back down and pulled your phone out from under your pillow. Notifications of “Happy Birthday Y/N!” messages from relatives overseas filled your phone. Text messages and snaps from other friends made your phone light up every 2 minutes. You rolled out of bed after scrolling through your phone for a few minutes and started your day. Today was the first you were 24. A month or two later and all the schools would be on break. You were brushing your teeth, “blasting” music from your phone, thinking back to some funny memories from last night until you got a text.

BB: “GM”

Of course, it was Baek, he always texted you good morning and good night. It was an unofficially made precedent. But you never complained ;)

YOU: “gm”

You put down your phone and continued on with your morning routine; brushing your hair, getting dressed for whatever errand or objective you set yourself, but for the first time in forever, you had nothing. You went back to your room to water your (almost dead) plants when your phone vibrated in your hand.

BB: “Yo, are you doing anything today?”

YOU: “for once, no”

YOU: “why?”

BB: “same”

BB: “do you wanna get breakfast?”

YOU: “sure. where tho?”

BB: “mm”

BB: “ooh, ik this new place that opened up and i saw some pretty good reviews about it”

YOU: “okay”

BB: “then pick you up in 15”

You turned off your phone and a smile grew on your face. As long as you’ve known Baekhyun and no matter how many sides of him you’ve seen, good or bad, there was always something about him that attracted you to him. The way he smiled and laughed and said things just made you want to hug him. Never once would you hang out with him and not be in a bad mood. Unless he was in a bad mood, which was rare-ish. The next thing you know, you’re in your closet picking out a cute, but casual outfit. So many choices, what to do what to do. Was it windy today? Chilly? Hot? Cloudy? Should you dress fancy? Or casual? Ugh, you wished Baek told you about the cafe more. You pulled out your phone to check the weather and saw that 7 minutes had already passed. SHI(O)T. You quickly pulled out your classic black jeans and your new baby blue short sleeved shirt. You looked into your full body length mirror and fixed your hair. You grabbed your wallet and waited by the door until Baek texted you his presence. A few minutes passed when you were just scrolling through your phone when you got a text.

BB: “here”

BB: “betch”

You clicked on the message notification and went to messages. As you were about to text your sassy clap back remark, he texted again.

BB: “jkjk pls dont kill me”

And there it was again. His usual funny charm that never failed to make you smile. You quickly replied while slipping on your white vans

YOU: “B*TCHH”

YOU: “coming”

You grabbed your keys form your key basket and left your apartment. You went down the stairs from your apartment to see the familiar white Cherokee. He was on his phone when he glanced up as you were walking towards the car. He instantly smiled, waved, and rolled down the winder.

“Get in loser, we’re going to breakfast,” he laughed. “Good morning.”

You just gave him your classic what the.. Look while getting in.

“Hi,” you said. You saw that he was wearing the same type of clothes.. Actually, he was wearing black jeans, black vans, a white shirt below with a blue sweater with his sleeves rolled up and a watch. You just focused ahead as he drove. Smiling and looking out the window, you did your occasional glance at your phone. You turned back and started talking when you feel yourself calm down a little.

“So how far is this new cafe?” you finally broke the silence.

“Mm, not too far, it’s a few blocks away from the company,” one hand on the steering wheel, the other rubbing his chin. Their new song universe was playing softly in the background.

“Have fun last night?” he smiled at you.

“Yeah, it was bigger than I thought, honestly,” you looked back outside, passing by the familiar streets. “I woke up with a small headache though.. Did you have a hangover?”

“Surprisingly, no,” he shook his head.

“Lucky,” you pouted. Baekhyun just smiled to himself from how cute you were unintentionally being. It was the same for him too. Ever since that one time he saw you asleep on your textbook when he dropped by, just the way you looked made his heart flutter. He always admired how hardworking and studious you were. He never thought he would ever fall for his best friend like those cliche stories and movies, but here he was, falling for you more and more as time went by. Oh how he wished he could just reach over and hold your hand, but he couldn’t. He knew you didn’t reciprocate his feelings. You confirmed it yourself when he asked you if you were interested in anyone. Of course you said no though, how could you confess then and there? Especially with how shy you were sometimes. But little did he know that you did reciprocate the feelings, just as much. Plus, he knew that there was a long list of other guys that he found out were interested in you, but you never paid attention to them. Of course you didn’t. You had some high standards when it came to guys. Heck, they were so high that it even made Baekhyun doubt his looks. You reached for the radio and turned up the music. Universe played louder at Baek’s verse and you just silently sang along with him. He glanced over and smiled, his heart beat faster in his chest. He sang out and tried his best to sing enough so you would sing out too. Even though you didn’t admit it to yourself, he always knew you had a lovely voice. It was always gentle and soft and ohwefouwefh he just wanted to hug you and squish you. You made him so soft.

“I’m guessing you like our new album?” He raised his voice over the music slightly

“I love it,” you smiled. As the song ended, you finally arrived at the cafe and Baek parked right in front.

“Shilla,” you looked up at the sign and looked into the cafe. There was barely anyone there but it’s understandable since it just opened like half an hour ago.

“Ready to go in?” Baekhyun pointed to the doors locking his car. You looked over and nodded. You both walked forward together towards the entrance.

“Hey!” Baekhyun turned towards you, surprised.

“What?”

“We look like a couple,” he laughed and gestured at both of your outfits.

“Yeah..” you said quietly. A blush slowly glowing onto your face.

He opened the door for you and walked in. The cool breeze of the air conditioning chilled you a bit, but it was okay.

“Let’s sit here,” he gestured to the table further in. “I can go order for both of us. They have your favorite here.”

“Okay,” you sat with your arms folded in your lap, you were a bit chilly. “Wait, but I need to pay,” you were standing up.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he came back and sat your back down. “Breakfast is on me today,” he smiled his signature smile that you prayed would never fade.

“Oh, are you sure?”

“Yes, now sit,” he pointed downwards. You saw him turn to walk back towards the entrance but turned left to the register. You sat there and was on your phone, snapping your streaks and scrolling through Instagram. You were feeling colder and colder until you feel something warm wrap around your shoulders. You looked back up to see Baekhyun standing behind you, hands on your shoulders as he wrapped one of his jackets around you.

“Oh, thank you,” you put your arms through the sleeves.

“No, problem, I noticed you were cold when we walked in.” He went back to the register and walked back to the table with two hot drinks.

“I got your favorite,” he set down the drinks and napkins and sat across from you.

“They have all my favorites here,” you smiled “Both food and person,” you thought to yourself. “This might just be my new favorite cafe.” You smiled and brought your drink to your lips. The refreshing smell of your latte filled your nose. “Mmm, this is so good,” you smiled.

“This is definitely my new favorite.”

You paused for a brief moment until you finally spoke up.

“How come you don’t have a schedule today?” you asked curiously. “I figured since you recently had this album released, and considering you’re one of the top groups in Korea, the last thing you should be doing is nothing.”

“Well..” and just from the tone of his voice, you knew he did something he shouldn’t have. “That’s the thing..”

“What is?” You stared at him. “Baek?” You lowered your head to get into his line of sight.

“I technically do have a schedule.. And it’s the busiest one of the year,” he rubbed the back of his neck.

Your eyes grew big at this. You knew how much trouble he would get in when he got back, especially since he did this last year too and you didn’t hear from him for a few weeks.

“Baekhyun, you shouldn’t have done this. Oh my gosh,” your mouth was agape in shock.

“But, I wanted to be with you,” he put on his puppy face. The face he knew was your ultimate weakness. “Plus, our manager doesn’t really know I’m gone. The guys are covering for me,” You could’ve melted right then and there but you stood your ground.

“Wha- But they’re not dumb enough to not ignore your absence. Plus, we were together last night!”

‘But I wanted to be alone, Y/N!” He sighed. “Please, just don’t worry about me and my soon to come punishment. just-“

You were taken back a bit at his sudden exclamation.

“Why, though?” You cut him off. “We see each other often, but today, you shouldn’t have ditched your schedule.”

“Because Y/N…” He paused, staring into your eyes.

~~~~~

gif not mine!

I hope you all enjoyed! and I’ll be posting part 2 tomorrow around this same time

Masterlist

[insomniac-arrest]

A Place for Things

words: 2k

summary: A woman goes to her mom’s funeral

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So, mom is dead. That’s not what you say funerals, that’s not what you say when you show up in a dress you bought at Macy’s the other day with your girlfriend’s credit card.

Mom isn’t supposed to be dead either, but you’re at least supposed to say something nice when she is. I forgot my eulogy in the car anyway, it didn’t start like that.

She was an angel, a light, a caregiver, nice words stuffed into an open gaping maw and you want to summon them so badly it feels like a throat burn. I wished I could pluck them out of some sort of word jar, loaded with just the right phrases- I would make a killing selling those.

An image burns a hole in my forehead.

My mom had jars, jars on jars on jars, she put fruits in them and jam and sewing supplies and ‘good things that happened to me’ this year slips of paper. It was the first thing people joked about when they tried to remember her.

You’re supposed to joke and say something meaningful, I can’t just stop thinking: she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead.

I don’t even know what that means.

I brought a granola bar in my bag, I never liked granola and maybe that’s why I bought it, I have my student's old tests shoved in my dashboard and my car keys down the front of my shirt. I have on two gold rings.

I show up with a toothache from some wisdom tooth removal that happened fifteen years ago, the soles of my heels are basically shredded but I wouldn’t sit down now if they paid me. My mom would have liked that, not in a direct way, but in a way that no one would have stopped her from nodding in my direction.

I have on two gold rings, I didn’t mean to put on two but some things slip your mind when you're jamming objects onto your persons the morning of a funeral. I had already driven two and half hours and walked another twenty minutes because I couldn’t find free parking and maybe I wanted to walk.

She’d call it ‘waist saving’ and maybe put it in a jar.

Cousin Ben looks at me first, he takes my hand, the right one with the two gold rings on it and gives me the most tightly crisp smile I’ve ever seen. My own teeth show up like a snarl.

“Helen,” he greets and then bows his head, “We were just talking about you.” I tilt my head, I have places to be- like anywhere but here. “All good things I hope.” I laugh like the sound might get stuck in my throat.

“I won’t spoil it then.” He laughs too and the temptation to be a musical villain is there. I want to turn, I want to be angry at a lot of people at that moment.

My cousin Ben brought his best tie from a New Jersey suit shop he found, it’s blue because it’s sad and he likes sad things. He brought three cents in his pocket, he likes to rub them together when he’s nervous and count the number of times he’s rubbed them.

He’s trying to make it less, I know that. My cousin Ben brought mouthwash and breath mint, he doesn’t kiss people, he doesn’t like the feel, but he became very self-aware of his mouth when he was a kid and still had a dead tooth.

He liked to be aware of things, though this wasn’t something he would brag about at any farm to table restaurant he visited. He just rubs his coins together in his pocket.

He knows my mom is dead in the way that she sent him canned peaches when he was six, they said it was a bad birthday present, but that’s how he remembered her because no one else was going to give him canned peaches for his birthday.

He also has a faux-crocodile wallet, an iphone 7 shoved in his back pocket, and a short eulogy just in case one of us faints on the spot and he has to take over. My other cousin Jenny would like that. She loved things like that.

I wave and try to converse through my teeth, his smile made me have to smile. I wish I was walking again, ‘waist saving’ as my mom would say.

I go in once another guest grabs his attention, I don’t know her, she’s not in the family and I can tell she might like kissing in the way he doesn’t.

I walk the other direction and the utter cool of the house overwhelms me as I enter. I briefly close my eyes.

I brought one black purse with one long black sash across my shoulder and a tiny wallet that fit inside that. It was also black.

I want to go stuff cheese in my face, someone said there was cheese on the group chat: ‘Nancy’s Funeral.’ I had done enough walking.

My aunt Flora is standing in the dim green hallway of the entranceway, she catches my eye, she has green eyes too. She opens her mouth, her lips moving without any words coming out.

She had been to many more funerals than I had, maybe she wanted to say ‘sorry for your loss,’ but it was both of our loss, the words die there.

I offer her a nod, “how are you doing Aunt Flora?” More silent words come out, she purses her thin lips and tries again, “better than Nancy I suppose.” She laughs a throaty guttural sound and I join in, it’s a sitcom sound. You’re supposed to make a few jokes at funerals, like you’re making it meaningful.

My aunt Flora brought one padded purse with extra handkerchiefs, not for anyone else, she knows she’s prone to crying and they are a stern warning to herself not to.

She brought one accessory, red lipstick that smears her teeth every so slightly and the hope that maybe someone will hint at her about it. No one does. She brought a lumpy black dress and two terribly comfortable looking shoes, she knows about shoes and would talk to you about them if you asked. No one did.

In the purse was fifty-five dollars in cash because she’s trying to save up as much physical money as possible to carry around, she doesn’t trust banks, but she’s not very good at it.

I offer her my hand, “to us then,” I almost toast, “slightly better than the grave.” She laughs this time too, the type of wheeze that meant her handkerchiefs were trying to threaten her. I turn around without ceremony.

Me and my brother always said one of those jars had tears in it, that was the story and my mom was making a deal with a great witch down the street. That’s why she sometimes took us by the ear and kicked us out of the house for a few hours.

Before dad came home, it was never long, not long enough to be a thing, later in life times like those that felt like I knew her, she locked us out for a few hours and I almost understood her.

Everything else was a mystery, a hole, and if it wasn’t a hole then it certainly was now.

That’s also what I thought of when I looked at my aunt Flora. We toast to the wind and trade condolences before I duck my head and scurry off.

There was cheese, or maybe another walk.

I have to see my brother next, I know I do because sometimes the world is never predictable but it ends up that way anyway. I see him in the cheese room inside the church reception hall inside the sweaty damp heat of the Atlanta spring.

He’s talking to his wife, who I like, and she’s not talking at all. I can see why.

My brother is moving faster than the winds could catch and maybe he remembered being locked out of the house for a couple hours too.

My brother brought tea, not on purpose, but because his daughter bought him some as a condolences present and they were the type of family to buy each other presents. He accidentally tore one of the bags when opening it and stuffed it in his pocket to hide the fact.

He brought his reading glasses but he was trying not to show that he needed them.

He brought a suit jacket he got after a promotion last year and a pair of pants that were a slightly darker hue but he hoped no one noticed (no one did but cousin Jenny. She found it in poor taste).

He had on an undershirt that was a little too small, my mom would say he should do more ‘waist saver’ walks. She’d say it with a smile.

His wife brought Advil in her purse, sticks of gum, four of the family credit cards, a water bottle for her daughter who was in the other room, a lozenge, a nail clipper, a book about Helen Keller, and headphones- taken from her daughter. Then some granola bars, she for one actually likes granola bars.

I want to eat another hole through my shoes, a gaping ones the matches the one in my heels, they were from Nordstrom Rack and also black. But my brother was talking.

“She never really could let go of those keychains we made her every year, I bet she still has them in a box somewhere! Or probably a jar,” polite laughter, “I think she never found a glass container she didn’t like. I would have cut her off and switched her to cardboard if it wasn’t at least a little charming.” Polite laughter, “I wish she knew when to stop. She never knew when to stop. With some things! A follow through-er, my mom was a follow through-er, haha, she would hate if I called her that.” Polite laughter.

Interjected words across words leave my brothers mouth. I narrow my eyes and I decide not to head right out to the cheese portion of my afternoon, Family Friend Tamara was standing there and I could tell she wanted to ask me advice about her son.

I keep my eyes on my brother, he jumped from one place to another.

“She taught me my words with those damn recipe books, and then those stupid Monkey Phonics, God, I should have told her I hated those. But then she’d make me help can peaches! I think I still hate peaches.”

Friend Tamara brought baby wipes for her hands, Mom’s old college roommate brought expired raffle tickets, my brother’s daughter brought tea and her meds. The woman talking to cousin Ben that I didn’t know brought breath mints too, Cousin Jenny brought her entire set of keys and Cat’s the musical discography.

Someone brought flowers, everyone brought flowers. I brought two gold rings, a pair of pantyhose I forgot to put on in the car, a tiny wallet, I walk across the room.

I barely get his attention, “Mom’s dead.” I put my hand on my brother’s shoulder, it’s the first thing I say. Maybe that’s why my brother always got let back into the house first.

He turns to me and the words die in his mouth, maybe he would make another joke. I shake my head and we both feel the gaping open words a little wholer than they were.

I wish we both started to cry, but he stops talking. I don’t show him my eulogy because I left it in the car.

I finish what I’m saying, something, something, and we move to take our seats for the ceremony, the priest brings a napkin in his pocket. My mom lies, lovely, gone, someone left a jar- I wish they hadn’t.

I forgot my eulogy in the car, I make a joke about it on the way up.